


Awkward First Encounters

by Inumaru12



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Aziraphale flips the heck out, Bc Harry Potter consitantly failed observation checks since a child, Established Aziraphale/Crowley, GO was set book time line so that was around 1990s and this is 7/8 years or so after, Harry Potter is clueless, I tagged Death in this but he's litearlly just lurking, I'm not sure if I actually wrote it in the story, M/M, Master of Death, Master of Death Harry Potter, Zira and Cro make plans to hide away and continue being domestic, a year after post HP series, but is trying so hard not to cause trouble that would come after him and Crowley, but just know that Harry Potter has NO CLUE he's MOD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inumaru12/pseuds/Inumaru12
Summary: Harry Potter is wandering around London, trying to decide what to get Hermione for her birthday when he spies a bookstore and decides to take a look around.  The owner seems a bit flustered and it makes Harry wonder if the muggle actually knows who he is.  If that’s the case, Harry keeps to himself and keeps a distance.On the other side of the shop, an Angel flips the fuck out over the Master of Death being in his shop, and even worse, trying to buy one of his books.





	Awkward First Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> H-HEWWO! This is my first writing in months bc of writer's block and work just draining all my creative juices lol. I hope to write more for GO since I'm absolutely rabid for the series rn. Hmu @kicktheinu on twitter and my tumblr is @inumaru12 but i don't use it as much as twitter!!
> 
> (If you're feeling very generous I have a ko-fi on my twitter page!)
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry Potter, now nineteen years old after a year and a half The Battle of Hogwarts, was walking down the muggle streets of Soho. It was freeing, being able to walk down the streets in London without being mobbed by people. Ever since defeating Voldemort, Harry’s fame had become even worse then he’d ever imagine. People worshiping him at one moment to gossiping and wondering if he’ll go dark the next. It was the same and yet different. More often than not, Harry found himself gravitating towards muggle areas, just to get some breathing room.

Harry’s friends understood for the most part, though some didn’t, and that was okay (for the most part). The Boy-Who-Lived[1] struggled to finally find a place to stand in the world now that Voldemort was dead and most of his followers had been gathered up. Once again expectations were thrown around by the media and its consumers; going even so far for a private source saying that Harry was on the list for upcoming Aurors-in-training for the coming fall, even though the young man hadn’t even put in a application or even spoken to someone from the auror department in months.

So life had become hectic, and more often than not, Harry roamed muggle streets, still trying to figure out what it was that he wanted to do. He decided to take every day one at a time, and what he decided today’s goal was to find a gift for his best friend Hermione’s birthday. It was still early into September, and he still had a bit before her birthday, but after helping Ron plan for his birthday surprise for her[2], that lit a fire under Harry that he knew he should get something for her before he forgot and scrambled to get something for her.

As he was walking down Soho, Harry got a strange prickly feeling that ran down from his head to his toes it eventually faded. The dark haired man stopped and looked around, wondering what in the world _that_ could have been. He had stopped in front of a store, a book store the looks of it, and Harry’s green eyes brightened and seemingly glowed for a moment before dimming back down to their usual soft green[3]. 

A book store! Perfect, Harry could most definitely find a book for Hermione here. Reaching out, Harry grabbed the door and went to open it.

A strange thing happened just then. That prickly feeling he had felt for a moment that made him stop in front of the store came back, but this time centered into his hand. The prickly feeling wasn’t Painful, pre say, but Harry was definitely aware of it[4]. Confused and a little wary of why his (?) magic (???) was working like this, Harry stepped into the bookshop. The bell above the door rung loudly, making the wizard flinch momentarily. He was still trying to decide what to do when the owner of the store came out from the back.

“Really my dear, I told you I’d be on my way. There is really no need to come and pick me up-” The man speaking, stopped as he takes sight of Harry his eyes wide in surprise before he seems to look at Harry seemingly closer, if the narrowing of the eyes is any indication. The fair looking man with pale, almost white, curled hair seemed to turn even whiter, causing Harry to wonder if this guy was about to faint.

“Er, hi. I just wanted to look around, if that’s alright?”

A few seconds passed and the other man didn’t answer immediately, but instead stared at him with wide, stressed eyes.

“A-Ah, of course my dear boy. I apologize; you took me by surprise. I thought I had locked the door, you see, so I didn’t realize I had a customer.” The man stuttered over his words, nervously looking at the door then back at Harry.

That was weird, Harry thought to himself. Had he somehow unlocked the door with his magic? Is that why he felt that weird prickly feeling when he had touched the door handle? It still didn’t explain the feeling he had gotten before he stopped before the store. Still though, the man seemed nervous and fidgety, but he seemed much too soft to be dangerous[5].

“Ah, sorry about that, I didn’t realize you were closing up. Do you mind if I do a quick look around for a book for a friend’s birthday? I’ll be right quick.”

The man seemed to deflate a bit, but nodded his consent and the young wizard hurried to look through the books. He knew that most people would think it’d be impersonal to buy a book for someone like Hermione, who regularly eats books for fun and ‘light reading’, but he also knows Hermione and that she’d appreciate some sort of book that she can read to destress from her long days at the ministry dealing with idiots[6]. Plus, he doesn’t want to go overboard this year as he doesn’t want to overshadow Ron’s gift.

Harry looks around a bit, taking in the many books and eventually loosing himself in his thoughts and wondering which book to get for his friend. As he moved from section to section, he never noticed the suit wearing owner watching him, clenching and unfurling his hands every time Harry looked over a book, and then sighing in relief when Harry set it down. The cycle continued, of course, every time Harry went to a new row of books, not that Harry was aware that is.

Eventually the dark haired young man came across a book sitting on a case all by itself and it looked rather old, but well cared for. On the title was “The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare” and Harry grinned and grabbed for it, not hearing the strangled gasp from behind him. He opened it gently, and on the inside page was the words “First Edition”, which Harry assumed was good. He flipped through it a bit, and some pages seemed worn, but overall it looked in great shape and he just knew that Hermione would love a chance to reread Shakespeare.

“Here, I’d like to buy this please.” Harry looked at the man’s face and found himself surprised when he sees the man with glassy looking eyes. “Um, are you alright sir?”

The man, with some difficulty, swallowed and blinked multiple times.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine[7]. Now this book…Are you sure this is what you want? I have some nice other fiction books o-or encyclopedias!” The owner went to grab the book out of Harry’s hands but the wizard pulled back slightly so he missed.

“Well, that sounds…nice, but I know my friend would really love this one. If anything, I could come back another day with her and show her all the books you have. She’s quite the reader and always spent so much time in the library at school that I think she’ll get a huge kick out of this place.”

When Harry suggested coming back to the store, the owner’s face went slack with barely contained horror before flooding with seemingly grief before becoming set in determination.

“Keep it.” 

“Pardon?”

“Just take the book and just never come back…please.” The please seemed added on, along with a gritting grin.

“A-Are you sure? I can pay for it, it’s no issue. I-”

“No, no! Just take it and leave!” The man came around the desk where the register was and put a firm and insistent hand briefly on Harry’s shoulder to push him towards the door before jerking his hand back, as if shocked. “As it is, I’m late for my date so I need to hurry.”

Bewildered, but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, Harry accepted the book and allowed himself to be corralled out the door.

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome, now please never, _ever_ , come back.”

And with that, the door to the strangest bookshop Harry Potter had ever visited slammed behind him and was very loudly locked.

“Well,” Harry rubbed the back of his head in awe of what just happened. “That was strange.”

Looking down at the book in his arms, Harry thought about the situation and thought that maybe the man wasn’t a muggle[8] like he though and that the owner one of those people that wanted to thank him by giving him gifts like some people do[9]. It didn’t exactly feel right with Harry to just accept free things like this but the man did seem like in an awful hurry so he could go on his date. Harry hopes that he hadn’t made the man too late[10].

Speaking of which-!

Harry pulled out his watch and let out a curse when he realized what time it was. He was late for lunch with Neville and Luna. Quickly making his way down the street, Harry Potter made his way downtown[11].

** XxXxXx **

Crowley was sitting at the Ritz, leg bouncing in suppressed worry as he eyes watched the front of the restaurant to see when his angel will arrive. It had been a little more than a hour since Aziraphale was supposed to meet him and while he was trying not to panic, he was panicking. Just as he was about to get up and go find the angel himself, in walks Aziraphale.

“Angel! Thank Go-Sat- _Somebody_! I was starting to think something happened. Are you alright? You look very pale.”

Aziraphale did look very pale and stressed as he slumped- _Slumped!_ \- into his chair next to the demon.

“Wine?”

It took a second for Crowley’s brain to catch onto what the angel was asking and then another second for him to move a glass and the already opened bottle towards the other.

“Yeah, I got us a nice year. It’s from that year we-” 

Whatever Crowley was going to say was cut off as his jaw dropped in shock as Aziraphale decided to forgo the glass and grab the bottle of wine by the neck and bring it to his lips and began to chug it back like a pro. Crowley could say or do nothing as he just watched an angel he’s known for 6000 years drink an entire bottle of wine in a matter of moments. Once he was done and the bottle was empty, he started to reach for Crowley’s half full glass, but the demon finally snapped out of it and pull his glass away from the other.

“Zira, what the Hell?” He slapped[12] Aziraphale’s hand away when he tried again to grab Crowley’s glass again.

“You will not believe who walked into my bookstore.” Aziraphale spoke up, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

At his words, Crowley stiffened in both fear and anger. Had Heaven come back down to harass their wayward principality? Or had Hell come up to get revenge on him by hurting his Angel? Unbeknownst to Crowley, his hand tightened in anger and the wine glass exploded into shards and wine spilled onto his suit jacket, the tablecloth and the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry my dear. I didn’t mean to upset you so. Here, let me.” With a quick miracle the glass was fixed and the wine that was quickly staining everything was gone, including the new stains.

“Ssssso, who wasss it Angel?” Crowley hissed, his rage poking his head out via his hissing tongue. “Did sssomeone threaten you?”

“No, no!” Aziraphale paused, thinking about it. “No, I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He did or he didn’t Angel. Which issss it?” Crowley slapped his hand on the table, getting annoyed and concerned with the other.

“Well, I had just locked up to meet you here when I heard the bell ring and someone walk in. I thought it was you at first, having decided to pick me up, even when I said I’d make my own way there when I got out into the room and found _him_ there. Crowley, the young man in my bookstore was The Master of Death. Someone actually went around and collected the three deathly hallows and _Death allowed it_.”

Crowley, who was now looking as pale as Aziraphale as was, looked at his now empty wine glass with a forlorn look. With a quick wave of the hand, a waiter was at their table with another bottle, which Crowley grabbed before Aziraphale could, and poured them both a glass. They both took a generous sip before continuing the conversation.

“So, uh, what did he look like?” Crowley asked after the wine started to steadily settle into his stomach.

  
  
The blond made a halfhearted motion with his hands.

  
“Scruffy black hair, green eyes and glasses and around Adam’s age I believe. He feels like magic. But Crowley, that was just his physical form. I could tell he was The Master of Death the second I saw him because there was this shadow standing right behind him, almost perfectly behind him. Except…except I could see it peak out from behind the young man briefly to look at him and Crowley, it was Death. Death was standing behind him, and no matter what angle I looked at him from, Death was always behind him, barely seen but there. It was horrifying.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed weakly. “That sounds awful.”

“But you know the worse part?” Aziraphale’s blue eyes filled with tears, and Crowley found himself leaning forward out of instinct to wipe the tears away. The angel leaned into the other’s hand as it cradled his face and let the tears fall. “The worst part is what I did. I-I had to get him out. He said he was looking for a book for a friend a-and he even talked about _coming back_ and bringing his friend and I just, I couldn’t have him come back! Who knows what having The Master of Death around means for us. So I…”

The faired haired angel sobbed and the demon did a miracle so no one was hearing or seeing anything going on since Aziraphale seemed like he was going full breakdown.

“So I gave him a book!”

“Aw, love, I’m sorry…Wait, ‘gave’?!” At the other’s nod, Crowley grimaced. “Which one did he take?”

At the question, Aziraphale began to cry harder and Crowley fussed more.

“I gave it to him just so he’d leave…It was a first edition…I don’t even think he knew how rare it was. He just took it off the display case and flipped through it before walking up to buy it.”

  
“I told you that you should keep them in cases so people can’t put their grubby hands all over them.” Crowley scolded lightly, to which the angel cried more, making the demon hastily comfort him. 

“Which one of your collection did you give him?”

“The D-Dramatic Works of Shakespeare!” With a keening cry and unable to hold it back anymore, Aziraphale threw himself into Crowley’s arms and cried out of frustration of one of his more rarer books being lost from him. Thanks to the miracles around them, no one was the wiser to the angel’s breakdown.

“I-I guess one good thing came from this.” Aziraphale said after he’d finally stopped crying and wiping at his red eyes. “I told him not to come back.”

“You think that will work?” Crowley asked, hesitantly.[13]

“Yes. No. Maybe, I don’t know. I’ll just…Close the bookstore for a few weeks. That way if he comes back, I can just avoid him.”

“You can’t keep the store closed forever Angel…Well,” Crowley shrugged. “I guess you _could_ , but that’s up to you.”

“No, just for a couple weeks I think. I think that should send a strong message.” The angel sighed, staring into the wine remaining in his glass.

Crowley, uncomfortable with seeing his friend so upset, suddenly grinned as an idea came to him.

“So the shop is going to be closed for a week or two, so…Let’s go on a trip! Anywhere you want to go.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and a small smile finally graced his face for the first time the conversation.

“Oh, a vacation! We haven’t one of those in years. Could we go to the beach? It might be a bit chilly to actually get in the water, but I’d love to search for shells and-” Crowley rested his face against his open palm and listened to the love of his life natter on about the beach. With a simple wave of his other hand; a waiter appeared[14] with a plate of food for Aziraphale.

By the end of the dinner, the angel was already looking much better. Crowley miracle the bill and lead his date out the door, arm in arm.

“I’m so sorry my dear.” Aziraphale sighed, leaning his head lightly against Crowley’s shoulder as they continued to walk connected towards the Bentley. “I acted such a fool earlier, crying all over you even. How utterly shameful of me.”

“Don’t worry about it angel.” The demon opened the side door for Aziraphale to enter before going to the driver’s side. “You were scared obviously, and who can blame you when The Master of Death walks into your bloody bookstore unannounced.”

Crowley leaned over and took the other’s hand in his and kissing it.

“But you know that we’ll get through it together; we always do.”

There were tears in the angel’s eyes again, but they were ones of joy as he leaned across the car to softly kiss Crowley.

“You truly are kind.” To which the demon rolled his eyes at and started the car.

“Only to you Zira.” He lied through his teeth.  
  
Said angel opened his mouth to disapprove that statement but Crowley just groaned and pressed his foot on the pedal, making the speed jump and Aziraphale yelp in surprise. Soon enough they were discussing plans for their trip and where they wanted to go and do. It was peaceful and domestic scene; something they’ve done hundreds of times before but a moment neither of them had ever grown tired of.

Together they drove on, ready to face whatever may happen and hoping (and praying) that this whole Master of Death business wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass[15].

**XxXxXx**

A couple weeks later, it is a young woman’s birthday and her shriek of shock when she opens her friend Harry’s gift makes everyone jump and reach for their wands and other offensive objects. But of course, that’s a story for another day.

** Fin **

[1] The Daily Prophet tried to spin the title as “Man-Who-Conquered” after Voldemort’s defeat, but everyone decided early on that it sounded a bit too harsh. Plus, BWL was simpler since they’ve already been using it for years. Magic folk tend to be a lazy and uncreative lot.

[2] Ron’s plan was finally narrowed down from several crazy and off the wall ideas to simply taking a two day trip, just the two of them in a way to be a romantic getaway. Ron had even done a feat for said trip that even Harry had yet to: learn how to drive a car.

[3] Harry, of course, is unaware of all this going on to him and around him. After all, Harry Potter has failed nearly all his perception checks since he was a child and been so completely Unaware of Things that its honestly a surprise he knows anything at all.

[4] It was the feeling of a kitten trying to practice their hunting skills on your open palm; slightly stings but sadly not as cute.

[5] The man was wearing tartan for Someone’s sake; he couldn’t be That dangerous could he?

[6] Hermione, after graduating, immediately began wading through the muck that is the Ministry of Magic and began cleaning up shop with the ferocity that made several wizards and witches fear her and fear getting in her way. Needless to say, she was making waves and progress and Ron and Harry couldn’t be prouder.

[7] He was not fine.

[8] He wasn’t.

[9] He isn’t.

[10] He was very late.

[11] Walking fast, faces pass and I’m homebound (kinda).

[12] Gently; he doesn’t want to hurt his angel.

[13] He didn’t want to set off Aziraphale off into another crying fit. He hated seeing the angel cry.

[14] The waiter was confused how this sudden order had appeared and unsure when he had gone to pick it up, but figured it was a busy day and that shook off his confusion to serve it.

[15] It didn’t really bite as so much as nibble. Harry is a polite young man and doesn’t really want to cause any trouble, but well, Trouble finds him, as he’s once said.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments give me validation that I didn't completely fuck up on characterizations lol. @ me on twitter @kicktheinu or tumblr @inumaru12 I hope I can actually find energy to write a second part to this!


End file.
